


Knight In Maiden's Clothing

by tricksyTurbulence



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, Homestuck - Freeform, Knights - Freeform, Medievalstuck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-26
Updated: 2013-10-28
Packaged: 2017-12-30 14:02:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1019487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksyTurbulence/pseuds/tricksyTurbulence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Janet Crocker is a lady-in-waiting, and she hates her life. Yearning for something more to her existence other than rules, verses, and etiquette, she runs from her life at court... Headlong into the largest adventure she has ever known.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1| Reader: Observe the Maiden.

Lady Janet Crocker reluctantly woke to the sound of a lark singing. It was a beautiful, lilting tune, but to a gal attempting to get a few hours more rest, the noise was hardly welcome. She groaned, rolling over, and shifted so that one of her pillows could cover her ears. Ahhh, yes. Though the damned bird could still be heard, its piercing song was muffled considerably beneath the lavishly embroidered fabric and stuffing. Such a setup would have to do for the time being. Of course, once awake, her mind had plenty of room to wander and roam, as was its custom. Soon, her thoughts found themselves far from sleep, and the Maiden abandoned her cause altogether to sit up groggily, allowing her legs to swing over the edge of the bed frame. She stretched her arms high over her head, black unruly hair sticking up in all directions, and yawned before cracking her knuckles, then her neck, shaking out the stiffness in her shoulders left from her long night training secretly in the stables. She yawned once more as she climbed from her bed before looking around with a scowl, taking in the empty room. All of her peers had gone; left for their morning chores and lessons. As much as she hated the notion, Janet knew that she soon must follow. Slowly, she began to get dressed for her usual morning tea with the Duchess. Bah. Tea. What want had she for tea? None; that was the answer. Janet yearned to be outside assisting the knights with their tasks and training, but for her, it was the life of a lady at court. Chores in the morning, stuffy dresses in the afternoon, verses at night... What she had wasn't a life, it was a prison. 

Janet sighed and sat back on the end of her bed, which was bunked with one of her fellow ladies. There were twelve of them altogether, stuffed into close quarters within the tiny room. This, in essence, meant there was torture in this prison of hers, seeing as her peers cared for little other than their wealth, status, and beauty. She groaned and collapsed backward on the bed. Jane Crocker was a lady-in-waiting, and she hated her life. 

==>

“You, Lady Crocker, are late.” The tone of disdain that the Duchess took with her as she walked into the tearoom to join her fellow ladies was one that she had grown used to over the years, and yet still she could not quell the churning that came into her stomach whenever she heard the cutting distaste that lay heavy in her every syllable. As if I live to please you! Janet wanted to retort, but she kept such remarks to herself. After all, she was a lady. Even in her thoughts, the word made her give an inward scowl. Indeed, such was what she was taught, and she resented the very notion with her every breath. Janet awkwardly moved to take her seat with glares from all sides, nearly tripping over her ornately embroidered gown (yet another bane of her existence). As she sat, staring sheepishly to her plate under the searing gazes of her fellows, she couldn't help but feel as if she would not be so resentful of her ladyship if she was allowed simply to be herself… 

From a young age, Janet had been told she was different, though at the start, one could see such claims were made for different reasons. “Abandoned.” People whispered behind cupped hands. “Shipped off” Was another popular term. Hisses of “Illegitimate child, unwanted, Alternian scum…” such words cut deep, though at the age of four she knew not their significance. Her favorite nurse, a kind, aging woman of Alternian descent, once took Janet into her lap to explain where she’d come from and how she had come to live at the castle. “You were just a baby, dear. You must have been no older than three when your father brought you to live with us!” The young girl had listened with wide, shining eyes, yearning to hear more. “Oh, Golly… Was he handsome?” 

“Oh yes, Jane!” The nurse nodded, giving Janet’s ribs a light tickle. (Even then, the wizened woman was one of few who had called her by the shortened version of her name, and she knew few ever would) “With eyes every bit as blue as your own!” Janet listened, entranced, as the Nurse wove her tale. She told of her father’s numerous adventures, of his travels, of his strength, of his daring… And then she told of his forbidden love. “An Alternian?” Janet inquired, tiny hands raising to her lips. “… Like you?” The nurse chuckled, holding onto the small child in her arms a bit tighter. “Similar, my dear. But this woman was of high stature, so he claimed… Perhaps maybe even a queen.”  
“Goodness golly! A queen?! Oh, I bet she must be kind and gentle and perfect!” She gushed, eyes bright and excited. Of course, at such a young age, she could not pick up on the shadowed look at briefly fell upon her usually lighthearted nurse’s countenance. “…Quite.” She said softly, clearing her throat as she gave a short nod. The nurse hurried on, telling Janet of how months after their short love affair, she, a new babe, was placed upon the front step of her father’s manor. He raised her for the first two years of her life before deciding that he was not ready to settle down, and he still yearned for adventure, action… And the woman he had left in Alternia those long two years before. With some reluctance, he called in a favor to his distant cousin, the good king of Prospit, who had only just sired a child of his own. Jane was brought to the palace at the age of three to be looked after until her father could return to her, and to be raised as a lady-in-waiting if he was not back by her tenth year. 

 

… That was 16 years ago, and as Janet sat staring at the tea and crumpets laid before her, she had never been more resentful of the father that had left her behind.


	2. Chapter 2| Reader: Peek Into The Past.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We take a look at a bit of Jane's childhood as she grows up on the castle grounds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I am so sorry, you all. For those of you who read previously, the sections of the back-story below used to be split up into 3 extremely short chapters. I have combined them all together here for an easier and more fluid reading experience. Sorry for any inconvenience, dears, and thank you!

Despite the dreary existence she led as a Lady-In Waiting, there was no end to the fond memories Janet had regarding her first years at the castle. A child could never run out of sights to see, fun to have, and things to imagine. The palace of Prospit was a playground that the young maiden was sure to take advantage of, and it was common behavior to sneak out of her room and run through the halls as if being chased by some great beast that needed to be slain. Her nurse, a woman with a loving and patient heart, would let the young girl have her fun for a while before beginning the search, if it could even be considered such a thing. The uproarious laughter and light ‘hoohoo’s were all too easy to follow, and Janet was soon found in a giggling heap upon the floor, the ‘beast’ slain. Her nursemaid would approach, looking down upon her in faux-disdain, before scooping the squirming bundle up into her arms, whispering in hushed tones as they made their way back to their room. “Ohh… How big was the monster this time ‘round, Janey?”

  
“He was a big ‘un, Miss Maryam! Huge!”

  
“How huge?”

  
“Ummm….” She thought, a chubby hand rising to her chin. “As big as the King’s chariot!”

  
“Ohh, now that’s fairly large, little one! Surely someone came to save you!”

  
“Nope!” Janet exclaimed proudly as they reentered their living quarters. “I slayed it all by myself!”

“Such bravery!” her nurse would coo, their dialogue almost the same every time Janet would run away. “But such acts of valor are left to knights and squires.” She wrinkled her nose at the child as if in distaste, though her eyes were bright with warmth. “Surely you wish to be a fine lady instead!”

  
“Why not both?” Janet would pout, plopping upon her bed moodily. “I don’t want to be saved; I want to fight on my own!”

  
The nurse would only shake her head lightly, as if the girl was foolish. “Oh, give it a few years, child. You may see things very differently.”

  
“I won’t!” and her chubby arms would cross, as much sincerity and vindication shown upon her face as any six year old could muster.

  
“Mmm… We’ll see.” The nurse chuckled lightly. “One day, when you’re older, you very well may change your mind.”

 

==>

 

She never did.

 

**== >**

 

Around this time was when Janet’s curiosity began to reach an all-time high, and she became increasingly more concerned with the doings of the knights and squires that bustled around the castle and its grounds. “What are they doing? Where are they going? What are those things at their hips? Why are they fighting? Aren’t they scared they’re gonna hurt each other? Why are they wearing those helmets? They look silly! What’s it all _for_?!” she would inquire, questions seeming to stream endlessly from her lips. Her nurse received the brunt of her endless curiosity, and one day she finally broke, pushing the young maiden out of the cooks’ quarters (who had, as everyone, taken a shining to her). “Go and ask them yourself, and leave the rest of us be with your incessant questionings!”

 

 And so Janet was left on the back step of the castle, arms crossed and lip extended in a prominent pout. The pout quickly faded, however, once the knowledge that she was on her own for the first time in the castle grounds. Brushing off her dress with a grin, she set off in the direction she knew to be the knights’ training field with a spring in her step, determined to find answers that would satisfy her endless curiosity. Short black curls bounced just above her shoulders as she slowly took in the sights that she had not yet seen without the supervision of her nurse or one of the cooks. Everything looked bigger and grander, from the stables to the training grounds beyond. Soon enough, she found herself close to the knights’ quarters, and she peered at the men as they trained from the side of their mess hall, biting her lip. Knights and squires stood talking, sparring, or simply sitting on the soft grass, discussing life and weaponry and gods knew what else. So this was what she’d been so curious about… Taking a deep breath, Janet stepped forward, approaching one of the younger knights in the bunch. The man stood several feet away, chatting with what seemed to be his squire. She cleared her throat softly to alert him of her presence, and he looked around, as if expecting to see someone at eye level. Rolling her eyes, she cleared her throat once more, and finally his eyes locked upon her, slightly wide with surprise. Janet gave a tiny curtsy to match the inclination of her head, as Miss Maryam had taught her.

 

“Hello, Sir Knight!”

 

“Ah, hello there, little one. You know, the training field is no place for small girls.”

 

“But I’m still here!” Janet shrugged with a light giggle. The knight smirked before nodding to his squire, dismissing him, and knelt before the small maiden, amusement in his eyes.

 

“That you are. Although I must ask why. What interest does a knight’s training hold with a maiden of no more than six?”

 

“Seven and a half!” Janet crossed her arms and shot him a soft glare. “Miss Maryam says I’m small for my age!” The knight put up his arms in an exaggerated show of defense, and she laughed, glare dropping. “Besides, I always see you guys walking around the castles and your pointy things go clinkety clink, and you’re always fighting each other!” She motioned to two squires sparring close by. “And I wanna know why!”            

 

The knight surveyed her a moment, amusement shown plain on his face. “Well, we are knights, m’dear, these are swords…” He motioned to the ‘pointy thing’ at his hip. “And those over there…” he pointed to some of the boys fighting in the distance. “… Are a few of our squires. We fight each other so that we can train, and keep adorable little ones like you safe, along with the rest of the kingdom!” he chuckled, giving her chest a light poke.

 

She giggled, placing her hands on her hips. “I wanna help keep the kingdom safe too!”

 

The knight stood, stretching his arms high over his head as he laughed softly, almost in dismissal. “The battlefield is no place for a small girl like yourself! Or any girl at all, really. There are no female knights in this kingdom.”

 

Janet was beside herself. “What?! No fair! I wanna be a squire! I wanna train!”

 

The knight rolled his eyes. Even if you could train, child, you would never reach knighthood.” He threw a wink her way. “Only boys allowed.”

 

Jane pouted, crossing her arms as she began to storm off. What a mean grown up! She just knew that she could learn to fight! And suddenly, she had a new mission in her mind. Whirling around abruptly, she called over to the knight. “Hey you! Knight guy!”

  
Amusedly, he turned back, his own arms crossed. “Run along, young maiden. I’m sure you have lessons to attend to.”

 

“I’m gonna go.” She began, a surprising amount of fire in her eyes for a girl of only seven. “But I’m gonna come back! And I’m gonna keep coming back until you teach me how to fight! I know there are a lotta boys that start at my age, and I want to train, too! And then I’m gonna prove that I’m just as good as all of you!” and with that, she turned on her heel, storming back to the castle.

 

The knight blinked, glancing around at the small group that had gathered to watch the scene with varying degrees of amusement. “… A firey one; that child.” One onlooker said, chuckling. “The younger squires would do well to watch out for her.”

 

The knight rolled his eyes, massaging his temples. Why did he have a feeling that humoring the young maiden and her questions would come back to bite him in the ass?

 

==>

 

It did.

 

 

 

**== >**

 

Janet, even then, was a girl true to her word, and found ways to escape her nurse’s grasp each day. It became a regular sight to see the young maiden running across the castle grounds on her way to the training field, and by the second week of her visits, the men were slowly beginning to warm up to her. A few of the squires, and even some of the more kindhearted knights, began to teach her simple fighting moves that they had learned in their earliest days of training. However, for what they took as humoring a small girl’s childish wishes, Janet felt as if she had been given a gift beyond measure. She caught on quickly, easily learning the basic stances of hand to hand combat after a few quick impromptu lessons. Each would last no more than 15 minutes before she had to go running back to her nurse for fear of arousing her suspicions, but she practiced within her quarters each night before she would go to sleep, and would strike fighting stances in front of her looking glass to be sure that she was doing them correctly. The smile on her face had never been wider.

 

Her nurse, missing nothing, knew that something had trailed from the norm by the end of the fourth visit, but couldn’t bring herself to say anything. Not when her Jane was so happy. A lady needed to learn how to defend herself anyhow, and although she knew that the practicing would soon have to come to an end in lieu of her Lady-In-Waiting training, she thought it best that the young girl have this for now. After all, what was it really hurting?

 

 

 

==>

 

“Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!!!! Stop it, Miss!  Please!” Janet, now 9, was pulled quickly by her right earlobe from the training grounds by a very angry and red-faced Duchess, who gave her an earful as she yanked her from the men she had come to know as friends. “If I’ve told you once, I’ve told you a thousand times! You are not to set foot on the knight’s grounds! Ladies belong in the castle, not in the training fields!” Her voice was venomous and packed a punch that would have sent a girl of Janet’s age to tears were they not used to the treatment. Unfortunately, the young girl was all too accustomed to being berated as such, and she took the blows with hardly a wince.

 

“Something has to be done. You start your formal training in less than a fortnight with the other girls, yet I can’t get you to stay in the castle for longer than an hour before you’re off gallivanting with every squire and rogue in the kingdom. Your incompetent witch of a nurse allowed you to get away with much too much whilst you were in her care.” The duchess spat, yanking Janet into the palace. “Alternian scum! That’s what she was.” Leading the girl through the castle to her quarters (now a room bunked with 11 other small children her age), she continued to ramble and rage. Janet couldn’t hide the way her eyes flashed in anger at the slur against her now departed nurse, and the Duchess raised her hand as if to smack the child across the face, palm stilled above her head. Janet flinched slightly as if to brace herself. “She deserved to die, and you know it, child. Just be lucky it was of natural causes and not of someone’s own hand.” And the threatening palm lowered by the Duchess’ side, the young maid’s shoulders slowly relaxing as she looked to the ground. “The king is too soft upon those Trolls from the east.” She sneered, using the offensive slur that many had adopted when referring to those of Alternian descent. “They have no place in our kingdom.” Janet nodded to her feet with a gulp, used to the way that those from Alternia were treated, and the Duchess turned on her heel to leave, slamming the door behind her. Janet heard the distinctive sound of the lock clicking, and waited until she was positive she heard the Duchess’ heeled shoes clacking away before throwing herself upon her bed, sobbing. Janet didn’t want to be a lady. She wanted to get out.  
  
==>

 

She couldn’t.

 

 

 

**== >**

 

Banned from the training fields, and put on a leash shorter than the Duchess’ temper, the lady in training had seen hide nor hair of the knights training grounds since that day ten years ago. Never one to give up, however, Janet had taken to sneaking into the stables late at night, fashioning practice dummies out of the straw that she’d found there. Managing to acquire a simple pitch fork, the maiden began working at once to replicate the moves she’d seen the squires learning with their swords. It was long, taxing work, and in truth, there were some weeks where she could not sneak away at all. Simply managing to break free from her stifling duties and expectations was a chore in and of itself. But most days, those practices were what kept her sane. The long, wooden handle of the pitchfork became like an extension of her arm as opposed to a lifeless stick in her small, slowly more capable hands, and as time went on, she began to formulate her own modifications to the technique. By the age of 12, she wanted more than anything to be able to practice with a sword of her own.

 

However, she was not alone in her pursuits. Roxanne, a rogue who frequently roamed the kingdom and who had an honorary seat at the Hivehearth (the town’s most famous pub), assisted in her silent rebellion. They’d met at a young age, when Janet was no more than five while on an excursion with her nurse, and they had hit it off, managing to find a way to meet up on every visit since then. It was certainly not uncommon for them to write to one another, Janet simply addressing letters to the Hivehearth’s owner. Somehow, the blue-ink scrawled parchment always managed to find its way to the true recipient. Janet shared everything with the girl who had she had come to think of as her best friend, including the increasing reluctance she had in pursuing her ladyship. Of course, there was little the two could do in that regard, but Roxanne managed to cheer her with every letter they exchanged, and Janet knew that should the chance ever arise, the rogue would come to her aid.

 

==>

 

She would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Lots more to come.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, dears! I do hope everything made sense, and there is plenty more to come. Please let me know if there is anything I need to improve or change. Constructive criticism is always welcomed; both good and bad. However, I do ask that you be polite at all times. Thank you!


End file.
